Daemon’s Mark by Caitlin Kittredge (web ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Bryson shook his head, tilting the license back and forth under the bedside light. “Not unless they got their hands on a state hologram stamp. This baby’s real as they come.”

“You cops will do anything to pin a rap on a kid. You’re all facists.” With that pronouncement, Russ reached for a fresh cigarette.

“You know,” I said, standing over him, backing him into the sofa. “A few things occur to me here: First, you’re a liar. Second, a twenty-one-year-old guy with a fourteen-year-old girl is statutory rape, and third, you don’t seem that broken up about her being dead. ”

Russ snorted wetly, a snort of the deeply asthmatic or the deeply coked-up. “For all I know that’s a lie. Lily and I talked last night. She sent me a text right after I left late night at the Belladonna.”

I knew the Belladonna bar. I’d caught a homicide there eighteen months ago. It was a dive, a haven for dealers and burnout students from Nocturne University.

“So after you were done snorting your daddy’s allowance up your nose, you got a text?” I said. “Show me.”

He glared. “Show me a warrant.”

Great, the one connection to Lily’s death was a Law & Order fan. I reached out and grabbed the front of his robe, pulling him halfway off the sofa. “You got any syringes on you, Russell?”

“Hell no,” he snorted. “Not all kids who like to have fun are junkies, 5-0.”

“You’re twenty-one,” I said. “You’re not a kid.” I felt around in his pockets until my fingers closed around a high-end cell phone. I checked the message history. Sure enough, LilyGrrl was the last text. C u at tha spot cnt wait 2 tayste u baby.

I showed it to Bryson, who wrinkled his nose. “Look at that fucking grammar. This country’s going all to hell.”

“You lied to me again, Russ,” I said, snapping the phone shut. “You and Lily were together last night. You’re 0 for 2 here and I’m not a patient woman. You have one more chance to tell me the truth or I’m going to lay your skinny ass out for rape and obstruction, and that’s just off the top of my head.”

Meyer opened his mouth, but I held up a finger. “Think before you answer. The next smart-ass comment is getting you tossed down those stairs out there.”

He was silent for a moment, the rats in the kitchen scrabbling and squeaking. Something thin and black tickled the back of my neck.

“Okay,” he said finally, getting up and thrusting out his chest in the same way young tigers show their teeth.

“Yeah, Lily and I hooked up. She loved what I did for her. She was only young in years. More mature than any of those spoiled college bitches I met. We had a great time.”

“You’re a real class act,” said Bryson. “Her father should have kicked your skinny little ass.”

Russ snorted. “That puppy couldn’t touch me. He knew better.”

In close proximity, underneath the scent of body odor, pot and some bitter drug on his sweat, Russ had the distinctive charred scent that always made my stomach drop. He had the blood.

“You’re a witch,” I said out loud, using the feminine noun on purpose.

“I have talents that frighten the narrow-minded, yeah,” Russ said. “Including those rich pig parents of Lily’s.”

I gave him my most predatory smile. “Too bad for you that Lily was killed in a magick ritual,” I said. “You’re under arrest. Turn around and put your hands behind you. Thumbs up.” I reached for my cuffs.

Russ smirked at me. “I don’t answer to the police.”

“No,” I said, moving my hands from my cuffs to my gun. “You answer to me. Turn. Now.”

“I’m not going away,” Russ said. “I’m not going to be framed. I know what they do to kiddie fiddlers in prison.”

“Wilder…” Bryson said, and then choked off, going to his knees. I drew my Sig Sauer P226 and aimed it between Russell’s eyes.

“Don’t you move.” I turned my head toward Bryson, trying to quiet the panic that flamed up in my brain. The scrabbling of the rats grew unbearably loud, and I saw a black shadow creep across the floor, overtaking Bryson, who gave a yelp and tried to swat it away.

“Ambient magick, pig,” said Russ. “Wardings. Can’t wipe that off.”

I flipped the safety off of my Sig. “Call it off.”

“No can do,” said Russ. “My boundary ward doesn’t take kindly to uninvited guests.”

I stepped closer and pressed the gun into his forehead. “I’m willing to bet that blowing your skull a new skylight will take care of any workings you control just fine.”

“Wilder…” Bryson choked. “Wilder, I can’t breathe…”

I felt the working crawl over my feet, my legs, and my own breath got short. I’d encountered boundary wards that caused pain, or those that simply paralyzed, but this was new, and I’d walked right into it.

“He has about another minute before he suffocates,” Russ said, boring into me with his bleary gaze. “Your call, pork sausage.”

“I take the gun off if you let my detective go,” I said. Russ nodded.

“Do it.”

I put the gun up, and Russ exhaled. I felt the prickles on my neck recede, the sound, and the smothering feeling of magick on my skin. I’ve never liked being that close to magick, even though most of my family has the blood. Maybe it comes from feeling left out.

Bryson wheezed, and stumbled to his feet, his thick face near purple. “I’ll kill you, you little son of a bitch…”

“David, no,” I started, but it was too late. Russ slammed into me with his whole weight, spinning me around and into Bryson. He was out the door, robe flapping, before I could recover.

“Go,” Bryson said, righting me. “I’ll call it in.”

I was already moving, out the door and straight over the railing to the alley a story below. Russ’s orange robe flickered out of the corner of my eye as he rounded the front of the building.

My